"After all," Mireya said smoothly, "risk and opportunity often come together."
She turned, gesturing toward the massive wall of shifting crystal panels behind her, where countless dungeon sigils shimmered faintly.
"Most people only see the glamour—the Hundred dungeon gates we manage, the relics retrieved, the cores formed. But they don't understand the danger. Every gate we register has a lifespan. Thirty days, at most. After that, the dungeon core destabilizes. The internal essence floods, the sealed monsters awaken prematurely, and then…" She snapped her fingers. "It all explodes."
Veyra's eyes narrowed. "And the fallout?"
Mireya smiled faintly. "If we're lucky, only the mountain dies. If not, it spreads."
